


Almost Hear You Sigh

by Alexfoster451



Category: The Umbrella Academy
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexfoster451/pseuds/Alexfoster451
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kraken always knew  Vanya had talent with music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Hear You Sigh

Title: Almost Hear You Sigh  
Author: Alex Foster  
Word Count: 1,743  
Fandom: The Umbrella Academy  
Pairing: Vanya/Kraken  
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: Dubcon, masturbation, non blood relation incest, spoilers for the Apocalypse Suite  
Summary: Kraken always knew Vanya had talent with music.

...  
 _I'm living with those memories, That's all that's left of you and me_  
-Rolling Stones  
...

  
Kraken always knew Vanya had talent with music. At six years old he started walking late evening patrols of the house and would always slow past her bedroom door, listening as she practiced her violin deep into the night. Her tiny fingers near bloody as she pushed herself to master Vivaldi, Brahms, Lizt, and Handel.

He would always stay longer than he should, forgetting his rounds, and losing himself in the sad songs she seemed to always favor. Vanya wasn’t special, not like the rest of them, but there was something pure about her talent that drew him back night after night.

As the years passed and he grew older the attraction only increased. By then Vanya had moved on to other instruments than the violin to master. Musical knowledge was essential to his training, Hargreeves ordered, so Kraken took up the guitar and asked her to help.

Late at night, this time inside her room rather than pressed against the door, she began to show him just how deep her skill with music ran.  
In hindsight Kraken should have suspected then there was more than just simple talent at work. That she was greater than just the simplest of them. There was a shorthand to her playing, something minuscule about the way she did things, that should have alerted his sixth sense to potential danger. She didn’t have to read music—she could and did—but once she started playing Kraken would watch as her fingers blurred over the strings, anticipating the next chord and set, much faster than human eyes could possibly read.

He didn’t see or know it then but should have.

“No, no, Diego,” Vanya would say with a smile and pull loose strands of hair from the corners of her mouth. “This is G, this is _C_.” She had a perfect pitch even then and would notice if he tried to fool her with a sour note. Sliding around behind him she would place her hands over his and gently strum the chords, humming the melody in his ear in time.

No, he didn’t see it.

After that came their band, the Prime 8s, and dreams of running away. Now they had something else to talk about other than the newest record release and rock and roll during their late night practice sessions. It was, Vanya once confessed, the only time she enjoyed practicing.

Before the gang he helped put in jail, before she left for Paris, she showed him the violin she spent hours with every day and said, “Play something with me, Diego.”

It was, he wanted to point out, what they had been doing already but instead just started to play his guitar. She still favored sad and slow so that is what he played, trusting her to recognize the piece and jump in when she wanted to.

Vanya walked around her room, studying posters of composers and framed sheet music, before finally pushing the door shut with the violin’s bow. Its soft click was lost in the melody he was setting down. She paused for a moment, seemed to make up her mind about something, and then tucked the violin comfortably underneath her chin.

Her first note seemed to grab hold of his lonesome deep beat and cause it to explode with power. The room practically shook with it; Kraken gasped and nearly stopped playing. In fact the only thing that kept his fingers moving along the strings was Vanya. Quickly merging into the piece, she changed the tempo and pace. It was all he could do to keep up.

No longer sorrowful the piece now crackled with energy and whirled around him like a force of nature. Deep in his gut, where the danger sense should have been, Kraken felt something begin to tighten and he did not resist.

Immersed but not nearly as lost in it as he, Vanya joyfully spun around on her bare feet. This was something no one in the family save for himself got to see—Vanya happy. He knew the real reason but liked to pretend it was because the face was reserved for just him.

Her laugh carried on the music and somehow enhanced it. Around and around she twirled in the small bedroom.

Kraken’s thoughts wavered as warmth rolled through him. A sheen of moisture spotted his forehead. Alcohol never had much effect on him, not like it did on Séance, but he thought intoxication might feel something like this. Vanya’s music filled his head and made it hard to focus on anything else, made him not care about focusing on anything else.

She flashed him a smoky glance over her shoulder and strummed a chord he couldn’t recognize. That power flowing from her violin passed directly through him and he shuddered. Kraken slowly realized, like waking from a dream, that he was no longer playing the guitar. It hung from the strap around his shoulders and bumped his hip as he moved.

He blinked and glanced down. Idly his fingers had begun to stroke himself through his pants, still moving in time with Vanya’s song. Kraken thought he should stop, tried to, but just then she moved up a key and touched a sharp note and instead of leaving his erection his hand increased its motions.

In front of him Vanya had stopped spinning; still playing expertly she watched him. “It’s okay.” He couldn’t be sure if she actually spoke or if the melody suddenly sounded like words to him. “I do it, too.”

Her blue eyes were waiting for him when he looked back. Vanya seemed to glow, her stance one of supreme confidence as she played the bow over tight strings, eliciting a magic that seemed to warm him from the inside out. With each push of the bow the hem of her t-shirt rose exposing smooth porcelain skin. Unable to stop himself, Kraken took in the teasing glimpse.

The guitar tumbled away after he lifted the strap and dropped it on the floor. He barely noticed doing that.

“Let me see,” she said/sang/played.

The need was suddenly so great that Kraken fumbled twice to open his pants before finally pushing them and his shorts down over his hips. His penis, already fully hard, bobbed slightly in the air as he scooted back on her bed. His entire body ached with desire; he immediately wrapped his right hand around his shaft and began pumping madly. Out of habit, his left slid his shirt up.

Vanya watched, somehow never losing step in the music, and inched closer. Her breath came in short gasps and a flush spread across her cheeks. He could see the press of taut nipples against the fabric of her shirt. The idea that he was the cause of her excitement made that coil in his gut tighten even more. Unabashedly he masturbated for her and held nothing back.

She changed keys again and a moan slipped out of his mouth. That more than anything struck his notice as odd. He was always quiet. Growing up in a house with siblings and a full staff of servants practically required it.

Vanya smiled again. “The song is ending soon.” The words floated through the melody. “Finish for me.”

Forgetting everything else, Kraken began stroking faster. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard before; his penis  throbbed painfully. It didn’t feel real in his hand—nothing felt real. Precum dripped down his grip and made each motion slick.

The music hit a crescendo and his entire body seemed to hum with it. Gooseflesh traveled across his skin and Kraken thought he heard his voice cry out and Vanya’s join it. Hot come splattered against his chest and belly. Strings and gobs of it flew everywhere. Relief rushed through him in waves. His vision went white and he hung for what felt like an eternity in whatever strange place she had taken him.

Finally awareness started to return. His ears rang in the sudden silence; the music was gone. And with it the spell. He blinked and tried to sort his thoughts, they were jumbled and not entirely clear. Kraken was on his back across her bed, his feet still touching the floor. Breathing hard, he tried to sit up.

“Stay.” A hand firmly pushed him down and then left him for a moment.

Vanya appeared next to him with a handful of tissues. Gently she began cleaning him. Her fingers brushed his limp penis and that same odd look from before she started playing the violin passed over her face. Kraken noticed that her pants were open and low on her hips—he didn’t remember her doing that. He didn’t really remember a lot of things.

Finished, she bunched the tissues together and tossed them into a wastebasket next to her bed. She flopped back and lay next to him. For a long while neither spoke. Kraken knew he should feel ashamed or regretful but instead he felt nothing but a contented peace.

Dimly he was aware of her softly humming next to him.

Years later, as she lay in another bed this time with monitors and machines clicking around her, keeping her alive, Kraken thought back to that time in her room. As he stood vigil over her—no one else in the family caring to be around her yet after what she’d done—and silently took in the changes to her.

Back then he had thought of her skin as porcelain, but now it put the term to shame. She was bleached head to toes and seemed to glow with an unnatural whiteness. Only the faint black lines running from her chin to her now clean shaven sex broke the perfection. Her eyes were still blue however, the only spot of color left on her, and blinked unseeingly at him.

Kraken raged silently inside. He blamed Five for shooting her and most of all Hargreeves for forcing her to become this. Of course the old fool had known—how could he not? If he had trained her instead of leaving her alone and lost maybe this wouldn’t have happened. If he had just told one of them so they could have looked after her…

Deep down, however, Diego knew the last wasn’t true. He had already known and just never saw it, never wanted to. Touching her cold cheek—her skin felt like stone now—he began to quietly hum.

  
 **End**   



End file.
